


In the Spring Sunshine

by Yarnings



Series: Writing Workshop Stories [1]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, MOBY Spoilers, Other, Takes place in book 9, reference to miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 17:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20343940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yarnings/pseuds/Yarnings
Summary: A heart-to-heart discussion of how Claire makes the 18th century more survivable.





	In the Spring Sunshine

I finished washing the lunch dishes and mentally ran through my list of chores, deciding what I wanted to get done that afternoon. Jamie had spent the morning checking household accounts and correspondence, but had announced at lunch that he was going to walk the fences to see if anything needed repairing. Roger volunteered to go with him (to facilitate repairs happening immediately), and Jem and Germaine had successfully negotiated to be able to accompany the men.

There were simples I could be compounding, but something that could be done outside was preferable. I, like Jamie, wanted to be outside, taking advantage of the mild spring weather. My thoughts lighted on the mending and I sighed, weighing the tedious chore against the pleasure of taking it outside to work on. The overflowing state of the mending basket won the argument in favour of me taking a chair and the workbasket outside. Ever since Jenny had left to live with Ian and Rachel, the mending had been accumulating as I always seemed to find other tasks that were more urgent.

I dug out one of Jamie’s shirts, and examined the hole in the arm. I could probably get away with just darning it. Brianna, for once without a more industrial project to occupy her scant free time, came out with two chairs, followed by a somewhat sullen Mandy carrying a large workbasket. Brianna set up the chairs, and Mandy immediately threw herself bonelessly into one of them. Brianna handed Mandy a bundle of fabric and dug out her own project, which appeared to be a new shirt for Jem. _We really need to get some new domestic help_ I thought. I had made do on my own when we first came to the ridge but that was when it was just the three of us, and there were fewer demands on my time as a healer. (We had also had a larger store of clothes, so the state of the mending basket was less of a worry in terms of us having something to wear.)

In theory Mandy’s project was going to be a dress for her doll. I had my doubts, as she was a little young to be trying to sew an actual project, especially for such an active child. But she took to it reasonably well. Her upset was more due to having been denied the chance to go with her grandfather than with the alternative employment that she had been presented with.

The three of sewed for a while, and Mandy kept up a ceaseless commentary on her project, the birds, the interesting plants she had seen that morning, her opinions of lunch, and everything else that crossed her mind. After a while she stopped doing any actual sewing. Brianna reached over to see what progress had been made on the dress, and told Mandy that she could go and play. Mandy was off like a shot, leaving Bree and me in blessed silence.

I interrupted that silence a few minutes later, noticing a wistful look on Bree’s face as she looked at where Mandy had run off. “They grow up so quickly. I remember when you were that age. Always wanting to go and do things on your own.” I got a real smile for that, but Brianna shook her head.

“I was just thinking about how different their childhood is going to be. I thought I’d come to terms with it before, but after going back… As much as I love being here with you and Da, there is no way I would have brought the kids back if we weren’t in danger there. Do you know what the life expectancy at birth is for people here, now? 35 years. It’s twice that back home by now.” She pressed her lips together, as if to prevent more fear from leaking out.

I hesitated, not wanting to dismiss her realisation of the very real risks of this time. But a bit of basic hygiene went a long way towards making one so much safer than everyone else in this time. “That’s the number for a country full of people who don’t understand what germs are or anything about how to stop them. Whose best medical care is generally a man who thinks that bad air causes diseases, which can be fixed by bleeding. I’m fairly sure that we are somewhat better off on the ridge. You’re not going to die of a hangnail here.” Thinking of some of the patients I had lost who I would have expected to be able to save, honesty forced me to add “Well, it’s extremely unlikely.”

“People don’t die from hangnails, Mama.”

“They can if said hangnail gets infected. It’s quite fascinating to look at what is listed as historical causes of death – not just now, this goes back to when they started listing cause of death in records. All sorts of things that aren’t really fatal, but if they’re the cause of an infection, they got listed. Figuring out germs might be beyond people right now, but they can still see infection moving through the body. Something starts at a hangnail and results in someone dying? Clearly the hangnail is the cause of death.

“I can’t always do as much as I would want to once infection takes hold, but so much of it could be prevented just by simple things like clean bandages, and washing your hands with soap.” Brianna made a Scottish noise, but didn’t say anything more, so we worked in silence for a little while.

As I finished the shirt and poked through the clothing in the basket for the next-smallest mending job, she spoke again.

“You weren’t entirely honest with why 35 years doesn’t really apply.”

I put the stocking I had in my hand back down, and gave her my full attention.

“A child of Jem’s age has a longer expected lifespan ahead of him than a newborn does. And there’s even a noticeable boost to expected age at death if they make it to adulthood. Now, I kept up with the kids’ shots, and Dr. Joe made sure we had all the ones that aren’t in the regular schedule. But if we all get cholera, there’s nothing you’d be able to do about that, and then they’d just be statistics. Roger and I – we know that there’s risks and decided to stay. But in doing so, we decided for Jem and Mandy. What if they don’t think it’s a good trade?”

I was surprised at this unexpected awareness of risk from Bree. Mandy’s heart problems had obviously had a profound change on her. Not that that was really surprising when I thought about it, I just hadn’t thought. We expect our children to go on the same as always, even though our role as parents is to shepherd them through change. It made sense that she would worry more now, even despite the fact that she hadn’t worried this much about Jem, even before he got modern vaccinations and removed a lot of the risks – And then it clicked.

“How far along are you?” I asked gently. She shot me a look, and twisted her mouth up in acknowledgement of the obviousness of the source of her concern.

“We’re not quite sure. We’re fairly sure that there were some issues with switching over from my pills to the seeds, and given the cause, I’m not sure I trust my period to be as regular as it normally would have been. Probably around 6 weeks though.”

My mind raced with possibilities. There wasn’t much I could do in the way of prenatal care. I was out of practice anyhow – even if I’d had the diagnostic tools for routine prenatal care (and remembered how to use them), no one in this time would consider a routine pregnancy to be a reason to see the doctor. If Brianna’s pregnancy went badly I would be as helpless to influence the outcome as I was more than thirty years ago when I lost Faith. I was suddenly worried. If Brianna was worried about the safety of children, would they return? Would this pregnancy be the impetus they needed to go back and face their problems in the 20th century? Her second pregnancy hadn’t been, but Brianna clearly had a more accurate understanding of how dangerous this century was now.

Following my train of thought on my glass face, Brianna reached out and touched my hand. “Roger and I talked about it. We’re staying.”

It’s amazing what an effect two words can have. They couldn’t vaccinate this baby. They couldn’t prevent bandits or other marauders from coming and burning the house. They couldn’t prevent the kids from having a fall like Henri-Christian. But they made everything ok.

“Good. Your father will be thrilled.”


End file.
